#how am i supposed to wait til 2024 for more of my baby

[sameheart-sameblood]

For the Good of the Realm

pairing: prince aemond x f!reader

summary: aemond reassures you of his love after you find out about his betrothal

words: 3.3k

warnings: 18+, smut, unprotected sex, piv, fingering, angst, swearing, aemond probably being way more soft than is canon but hey im depressed let me do what i want

a/n: i've had zero motivation to write the last month but thankfully this little war criminal came along and lit a fire under me. ugh i just wanna hold his hand and maybe take him to therapy lol. also i'm being a bit revisionist and making it so he didn't kill a little kid right before the events of this fic.........

read on ao3!

Word of the betrothal spreads through the Red Keep slowly at first, then accelerates like green wildfire. Soon enough, the news seeps out of the walls of the castle and is whispered from ear to ear all throughout Westeros. You wouldn’t be surprised if the Free Cities on the distant shores of the Narrow Sea had heard it before you. Of course, in actuality you had learned of it well before most people but you should have been the first. You were owed that much.

The narrow staircase proves difficult to dart up. You lose your footing several times but ignore the scrapes and bruises that surely will need attending to. None of that matters now as you try desperately to get away from the one person you thought you could trust. Tears blur your sight, not helping your ascent. Slipping once more, you hike your skirt up and make a mad dash for the top of the steps, all the while the memories of your time in King’s Landing swirling through your head. 

You had been fifteen years old when father had received a royal summons. He and your mother had gawped at the thick stationary signed with King Viserys’ emblem that fell at their feet, spirited to you by one of the Red Keep’s impressive ravens. The letter, it turned out, was not summons for one of your brothers to join court but for you instead. 

Your house was small but proud, having served the Targaryens loyally through bloody wars and blessed peace. While no Baratheons or Lannisters, your family had proved faithful and the king felt that should be rewarded. It had been agreed that you would serve as a lady-in-waiting to the Princess Helaena, who was also around your age. 

While an unexpected request, there was no question if you would go. Such an invitation was a great honor and as the daughter of an uncelebrated house, it was the best case scenario for you. If you stayed at your family’s lands there was little chance of marrying outside of your circle. However, with you being sent to court, you knew the silent hope on everyone’s mind was that you might catch the eye of some higher born lord. Over a decade had passed and indeed you had attracted the attention of someone of a much higher station than yours.  Much too high for the likes of you. 

He’s not far behind you, his pleads for you to stop and listen to him echoing off the stony steps. You daren’t turn and face him, knowing one glimpse of his face will only weaken your resolve. Nothing he can say will change things anyway. He’s engaged to a lady of proper status that would well suit a prince. Though it breaks your heart, you know there’s nothing to be done. You’ll pack your things and return home, tail between your legs. The thought of the disappointment from your family washes over you but you put your head down and trudge onwards. What is their disappointment when compared with your forever hardened heart.

Reaching the top of the stairs you run to your room, slamming the door behind you. Frantically, you pull out a traveling chest and begin stuffing all of your belongings into it. It’s haphazard and your mother will scold you to no end when she sees the state of your clothes but you just need to be on your way. The sooner you leave King’s Landing, the sooner you can purge yourself of all the memories that hold you there. 

Hurried footsteps approach your door and you’re not surprised when it opens without so much as a knock. Aemond stands there for a moment, catching his breath. You pay him little mind, continuing your packing. His eyebrows knit together with worry when he realizes what you’re doing. 

“Where are you going?” he asks tightly. 

Letting out a pained laugh you answer. “It seems as if I’m no longer of use here. Do not worry, my prince. Soon you shall be rid of me.”

Aemond looks as if you had just started speaking Dothraki to him. “What do you mean ‘your use here’?”

Your anger overtakes you and you throw down the dress you were carelessly folding. “I mean I was nothing more than a pawn. I was a convenient way for you to learn the ways of women and how to please them. Now that you’ve had your fun with me and gleaned all you can you’re free to move on to a proper lady.”

Aemond looks at you with such heartbroken confusion that you bow your head, lest he see the tears brimming in your eyes. You push past the urge to comfort him. It is you who deserve comforting, you remind yourself. 

“I have no desire to marry that Baratheon girl. When I went to speak with Lord Borros at Storm’s End yesterday the only term he would accept for pledging to House Targaryen was a marriage to unite the families. We’re already losing if we don’t have him on our side,” he says. 

“That means you had a whole day to tell me. I had to hear it from your brother. He was more than happy to let me know.” You scowl, remembering the almost skip in Aegon’s step as he had whispered the news to you during dinner. 

Your prince curses darkly under his breath. “Of course it was Aegon. That prick.”

Nodding you sit at your vanity and begin organizing your small collection of jewelry and trinkets. Aemond swallows down his anger at Aegon and kneels by your side. You refuse to look at him. He doesn’t touch you, worried that might spook you. 

“I spent all of yesterday trying to think of a way out of it. I went to the small council, my grandfather the Hand, even my mother…” he stalls, not finishing the thought. It’s evident what he doesn’t have the courage to say. 

Instead, you finish for him. “…but they told you that in order to ensure a Targaryen victory they need an alliance with Storm’s End. Which means you have no choice but to marry Lady Ellyn. For the good of the realm.” 

“For the good of the realm,” Aemond parrots back bitterly. 

There’s nothing to be done. Rationally, you know that. He is a prince with a duty to his kingdom. You were lucky to have him to yourself for as long as you did. In your heart, though, you know you will never love like this for a long time. Maybe never again for if this is what true heartbreak feels like then you would rather die than repeat it again. 

The last piece of jewelry you find is a brilliant, blue sapphire necklace that Aemond had gifted you three namedays ago. “As blue as the Sea of Dorne,” he’d murmured to you as you had admired it. The Aemond who had gifted it to you then had fewer worries and bigger promises. You had laughed that it was indeed beautiful but you would have to take his word for it, you’d never seen the Sea of Dorne. At that, your prince had grabbed you by the hand and spirited you away on Vhagar, determined to show it to you right away. The ride on the dragon had not been exceptionally long, but once the deep blue waters came into view, it felt like you and Aemond had entered a world all your own. 

Back in your chambers, though, reality has caught up with the both of you. Aemond watches you study the necklace, then rests his head against your arm. “Tell me that you want to run away with me and we’ll go right now, like we did all those years ago.”

You caress his hair for a moment, reveling in the realization that you could run away. With Vhagar to take you, no one would be able to follow. And if they did, Aemond and his dragon would make them understand that the two of you were free to do as you pleased. Real life once again makes your dreams crash down around you. Gently, you extricate yourself from Aemond’s embrace and put the last of your jewelry into the trunk. 

He watches you as you close the lock with a resounding and final clunk. You turn to him, trying to look strong. “I would not ask that of you, my prince. I would not separate you from your family and leave them to despair and failure. They need your strength. We must accept that.”

For a moment, you think you’ve convinced him that you should do the responsible thing. But you should know better than anyone that Aemond never accepts defeat. His once soft and broken expression morphs into one of impassioned determination. He rises, striding to you before you realize what’s happening. Standing before you, he seems a giant, intimidating and alluring all at once. 

“Tell me you no longer want me and I’ll marry that Baratheon bitch,” he says steadily. 

You know you can’t. “Aemond…”

He continues, emboldened by your clear devotion to him still. “Tell me you no longer need me and I’ll walk out of here right now.”

Tears begin to course down your cheeks as you try to find the words. It’s useless, though, and Aemond knows it. He lowers his voice to a hushed, honeyed whisper. 

“Tell me you no longer love me and you need never see my face again.” 

Any resolve remaining in you dissipates and you close the gap between you, whispering his name pitifully before you bring your lips to his. At first it’s sweet and tentative, two lovers reminding each other of their affection. But at your first whimper, Aemond deepens the kiss, holding you close to him, your bodies molding together. 

In an instant, he’s ripping you out of your dress. Aemond doesn’t wait for it to completely fall off, satisfied with your bodice no longer in the way of what he wants. He turns you around so suddenly, you gasp, trying not to lose your footing. You needn’t worry though, he catches you, pressing your back to his chest. Even through the skirt that still clings to your body and the leather of his pants, you can feel him hard as dragonscale. 

The both of you revel in the feeling for a minute, you pushing back into him and Aemond kneading your hips comfortingly. The spell is broken by another of your pitiful moans as you seek more friction. Aemond chuckles, “Impatient as ever, my love.”

Knowing exactly what you want after years of exploring your body, Aemond brings his hands up to cup your breasts. Your head lolls back onto his shoulders as he massages them gently. His hands are calloused from years of sword fighting and it makes you shiver. Without even seeing him, you just know he’s smirking. Aemond removes one of his hands, squeezing your nipple before he abandons it. The sound of more tearing fabric reaches your ears as he pulls off your skirt. 

You whine until you feel him slide his hand along your belly, giving you goose bumps. His hand cups your cunt, pulling you back into him again, his other hand still working at your breast. Aemond slips a finger through your folds, chuckling at how worked up you are. He takes pity on you and begins rubbing languid circles on your clit as he kisses softly down your neck. It’s definitely sacrilege to think but you’re sure this must surpass any of the seven heavens the septons preach about. 

There’s one thing that could make this heaven even better. You put your hands on Aemond’s to signal him to stop and he turns you around, worry in his eyes. “What’s wrong?” His breathing is heavy and you smirk when you realize he’s just as excited as you are. You lay a hand on his cheek and he smiles, closing his eyes as he leans into it. 

“I want to feel you, my dragon.” 

Aemond begins to undress himself. “Please,” you whisper, “let me do it.” His breathing quickens even more as he nods. Fingers trembling, you undo the buckles of his shirt. Usually, time together is limited and Aemond would do this task himself to speed things along. Instinctively, he reaches to help you but you playfully shoo his hands away. He watches you with a fond smile as you get the hang of it. Buckles undone, you shimmy the shirt off of him and toss it aside. His chest bare, you can’t help running your hands over it, mapping the expanse of the scars that run across it. Aemond shudders and groans. You could do this all day but he’s getting restless. “Please, my love.”

Chuckling, you begin undoing his trousers. “Who’s the impatient one now?”

You bend down to help him step out of them. Once free of all of his clothes, he tries to get you to stand but you stare up at him with a smirk. He’s right there, hard and ready begging to be touched. Your hand closes around his cock and he moans. You mean to take him in your mouth but Aemond has other plans. “Not now. I’ve other plans for you tonight.”

He pulls you up and you yelp in surprise. “Aemond, wait.”

Tonight, you want him truly naked. “I want to see all of you, Aemond.” He knows exactly what you mean and after a moment, he nods. You reach up carefully and undo the patch that covers his missing eye. You’re greeted with a dazzling sapphire that matches the necklace he gifted you. If Aemond had his way, he wouldn’t wear the covering at all but he knows that without it the people of court deem him more of a monster than they already do. Part of him is still a scared little boy who wonders if maybe they’re right. 

You hold his face as you reach up on tiptoes to tenderly kiss the scar across his eye that constantly reminds him of the loss. In return, Aemond kisses you hard and lustily. He pushes you back on the bed and you giggle as you bounce slightly. As you look up at him, he undoes the clasp holding his hair back and lets his silvery gold locks fall freely around his face. 

Now he’s ready to take you. 

Aemond lowers himself on the bed and crawls towards you. Intuitively, you open your legs for him and he rests between them, like a panther assessing his prey. He stares down at you, caressing your cheek. You’re sure you’ve never seen a more beautiful sight. You don’t have long to admire him though as he’s set in motion. Aemond kisses you fiercely, then grabs one of your knees, bending it up towards your chest to give him better access to your cunt. He presses a finger into you, stretching you as you whimper. 

As he works you open, he takes one of your nipples in his mouth and sucks lazily. When your whimpers turn to moans, he adds a second finger. He curls them inside you, searching for the place that makes you see stars. It doesn’t take him long to find it. It never does. Aemond sits back up to focus on his task. As he presses on the spot, you prop yourself on your elbows and watch him at his work. He feels your gaze and stares right back at you, grinning. Your mouth falls open as he presses harder and faster. The noises you’re making are animalistic and it’s a wonder you haven’t woken up the whole castle. 

Aemond brings his lips to your clit and sucks as he presses more insistently. The pleasure crashes over you and you come suddenly, wailing as you fall back down into the pillows. Normally, your lover would give you a moment to recover but deep down both of you know this might be your last night together. A second after your undoing, Aemond’s crawling over you and pressing his cock to your entrance. You grab his ass, trying to push him inside of you faster. He takes the hint and slips inside, both of you moaning in unison. 

The prince pauses for a moment, closing his eyes and reveling in the feeling of being enveloped in you. You let him stay there a moment then tease him by squeezing your walls around his cock, bringing him back to the present. The smirk is wiped off your face and replaced with a satisfied sigh as he pushes into you over and over again. The overstimulation gives way to pleasure again and you know you won’t last much longer. But you want to hold out and wait for Aemond to finish with you. 

Aemond’s lips come to yours as he continues to rut into you. Wrapping your legs around him, he speeds up and buries his face in your neck. You cradle him against you as you let the bliss you’re feeling push away all the thoughts of what’s to come tomorrow. Your prince hits a particularly sensitive spot in you and your nails scratch down his back as you come once more. Aemond follows after you shortly, groaning as he finishes inside of you. 

You lay there for a moment, both of you sweaty and satisfied. Aemond moans happily as you run your fingers through his soft hair. After a few minutes, he rolls off you and pulls you into his chest. Thoughts of what you’ve been avoiding creep back into your mind and based on how quiet Aemond is, you know he’s thinking it too. You’ll be damned though if you’re the first one to break the reverie you’re in. 

Aemond breaks the silence for you. “I want to marry you” 

You gaze up at him and smile sadly. “I want the same. Though I don’t think the gods will allow it, my prince.”

“Gods be damned. Let me take you away from here. We can marry before my mother even knows we’re gone. She’ll have no choice but accept once she sees the truth of it.”

You think back on your history lesson from Maester Gerardys. “We’ll be like King Jaehaerys and Queen Alysanne?” It’s a folly and you say it as such but Aemond is invigorated by the thought. 

“They married against the wishes of their mother. Why shouldn’t I? Everyone thought their union would throw the realm into chaos but it didn’t. Ours would be just as blessed.”

It pains you to be the one to bring the dream to an end but the kingdom hangs in the balance. “But what of Borros Baratheon?”

Aemond sneers, “That illiterate bastard can find another to marry his daughter. If he breaks his oath and runs back to Rhaenyra then Vhagar and I shall pay him a visit he shan’t soon forget.”

You want to argue more, beg Aemond to see reason. But the hour grows late and your body craves sleep. You snuggle up to him and close your eyes. Aemond takes your silence for an agreement. 

“We’ll fly away tomorrow. Wherever we land we’ll find a septon to wed us.”

You hum a sleepy “Of course, Aemond.” 

The prince looks down at you and smiles sadly. He’s not stupid. You’re only placating him but doesn’t matter. His plan is a dream but it’s something to hold on to until tomorrow brings about the stark reality of your situation. 

But those are troubles that sleep will wave away. Aemond blows out the candle and brings the blanket up to cover your shoulders. Soon sleep descends on him and his eyes get heavy. Before he’s completely overtaken he murmurs to you in High Valyrian. 

“Avy jorrāelan”

He doesn’t expect a response but breaks into a sluggish grin as you whisper back. 

“I love you too, Aemond.”

******